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Innocents

Caught in a madman’s rage Life distorted Normal becomes abnormal Sense becomes senseless Logic disappears Flowers appear Springing from the bloody ground Can they hallow the soil? In this eternal struggle Of good versus evil Love versus hate The decision is yours Choose wisely among The images you resurrect Will you choose Flowers Living symbols A kaleidoscope Of changing patterns Varied hues of Red, yellow, orange and purple Delicate and wild Single and in bouquets Spreading as grief flows Like blocks in a quilt Standing at attention Mirroring internal struggles First fear, grief and anger Later, forgiveness Will you choose The glint of sunlight on steel The thunder of bullets Tearing flesh Faces contorted Bodies crumpled, discarded Left where they fall As a fetus without a womb Animal sounds emerge Without a home to go to Echoing through The community, the nation, the world Hate as strong As the gun’s metal, Contains within its chambers Limited volleys Once expended Its power dissipates Love, as delicate As the flowers’ petals, Conceals within its pods Seeds As infinitesimally small As grains of sand Stretching Through space and time Imagine Nature choosing for you After hate’s missiles end Love’s seed sows itself Endlessly Norway – July 2011 Third version September 2011 Fourth version Oct KDK

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 4/10/2016 7:32:00 PM
Kathleen, Thank you for recommending this wonderful poem! It is so visual...and visceral. The contrasting imagery is breathtaking! I love so much how you contrast the hard metal of warfare with the soft breath of the petals of flowers. Alas, my poem (A Time Between Gods) upon which you commented, is pessimistic...yours is optimistic..."Love's seeds sows itself...Endlessly". I so love your poem and hopefully shall never forget it....Sam
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Kathleen Kroll
Date: 4/11/2016 5:08:00 PM
Thank you so much, Sam. I think we are on the same wavelength. This event triggered so much sorrow and horror. Thank you for keeping the thoughts about the children alive. There have been so many incidents. So glad that my poem was meaningful. Kathy

Book: Shattered Sighs